


Home Is Behind

by MagpieMorality



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Brothers, Climate Change, Fluff, Gen, Implied Mass Extinction, Implied Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22914610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieMorality/pseuds/MagpieMorality
Summary: Dante and Virgil are surviving in what remains after the end of the world. Sometimes there are nice little surprises to enjoy.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit Sanders
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Home Is Behind

It’s been an age since Virgil tasted strawberries, and yet here they are; staring at him, temptingly ripe and red and desperate to be eaten. He wonders if he even remembers what they taste of, and finds himself licking his lips as his mouth waters.

A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, reminds him that he shouldn’t be letting down his guard even in this seemingly safe, idyllic place. It’s just Dante of course, but there’s danger everywhere, and the scars on his brother’s face remind him that vigilance is the key directive these days for a reason.

Dante smiles, crouching down beside him. “They used to be your favourite,” he says, reaching out to touch one, brush the shiny red and feel the bump of little green pits under his calloused fingers. “I don’t think they’d be bad to eat, if you wanted to have one or two? Call it a birthday miracle.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Virgil protests, although neither of them really know what day it is anymore. Only that it’s too warm to be December. But then it is too warm just about all the time now, with the climate what it is… So who can be sure? “Fine. A birthday miracle. But you gotta have one too.”

Dante snorts, casting a quick, practised eye over their surroundings just in case before bending down to pluck one of the medium sized ones off its stem, rolling it in his fingers. Virgil goes for a big one at his brother’s urging, and they tap them together with matching giggles, before taking tiny bites of their sweet treats.

It’s a burst of flavour and nostalgia with a sweet, _undeniably strawberry_ aftertaste. Nothing like the powdered fake stuff they sometimes stole from shops to add to water and make life a bit more interesting. This is real, and Virgil wonders how he ever forgot it. He whimpers, finishing that one and carefully picking the rest to save. Dante’s hand stops him from taking the smallest ones- barely ripe and only the side of his thumbnail really- murmuring for him to leave them for someone else to find.

They don’t talk about how there might be no one else left for days around here, or how even the animals might not be plentiful enough to find the fruit before they turn bad. Dante’s eyes, one so scarred and one sharper than it ever was before, are soft and serious. He smiles when Virgil moves back, helping him stow away the ones he had taken, and helping him up off the ground.

It’s time to go. “We need to make camp before dark,” Dante murmurs, eyeing the position of the sun in the sky. “Let’s keep moving.”

And with the strawberries in tow; Virgil squares his shoulder and follows his older brother through the wasteland of America, heart a little lighter than before.


End file.
